It might have been enough back in Orwell’s 1984, but Two Minutes of Hate wouldn’t give most of us enough time to rage against just one Tube misdemeanour today. This week alone, social media’s lynch mobs sharpened their pitchforks against Myleene Klass (a taxpayer with the audacity to voice an opinion on tax); a BBC DJ who, while jabbering on for hours in a radio phone-in, made one stupid comment about the convicted rapist Ched Evans; the decision to ban “pick-up artist” Julien Blanc from Britain (opinion split between those condemning the stupidity of said decision, and those ranting about those who called for it); and leaf- blowers. John Humphrys, don’t you know, has “declared war” on their “noisy autumnal curse”.

Of course he has. That’s what we do nowadays. War (and a lawsuit) for the neighbour harmlessly blowing leaves for a half-hour. I too have always thought the process of moving leaves from one area to another is pointless (wind, meet leaf pile). But not enough to pen a 1,200-word polemic on the leaf-blower. Or start a petition — don’t bother, John: there are already 32 separate online pleas calling for its “utter annihilation from daily society”.

When did we all become Mr Angry? We may not sport the bowler hat of Roger Hargreaves’s incensed red creation but do don his frown and readiness to explode about the next innocuous annoyance. More than 4,000 people have signed a petition to have Klass sacked from Littlewoods for having an opinion on the “wrong” tax — the mansion one that would hit the rich rather than the bedroom one on the poor that Klass is “supposed” to be angry about.

Petitions were once reserved for serious things such as anti-extradition pleas from friends of refugees or Downing Street legislation demands. Now they are set up faster than Twitter parody accounts. A whizz through the Government petition website reveals one addressed to the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs demanding: “Stop assuming that Pepsi is an acceptable sub for Coca-Cola.” It continues, “this petition would not accept the following conversation: A: “Hello, could I have a Coke please?” B: “We don’t have Coke, is Pepsi OK?” Obviously, it is not.”

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The people wasting their time feeling irate at being asked a harmless question about their carbonated drinks choice are likely the same ones jibing Matt Taylor. The physicist involved in the Rosetta mission that landed the Philae space probe on a comet did indeed wear a stupid, sexist shirt. But he didn’t deserve the stocks treatment, with online commentators flinging metaphorical stones at him; nor did his critics deserve the death and rape threats that came their way.

A sense of proportion has been lost. Anger can’t be good for the soul, and it’s not much cop for society either. When Londoners take their social media-inspired vitriol and become cyclists and drivers, accidents follow. When they take to the Tube, they’re the ones hissing on the escalator because you’re not walking fast enough. At the gym, they’re the ones shouting at innocent cleaners. At the pub, they’re the ones who turn nasty after a few too many.

Next time someone says something stupid, then apologises, or has an opinion, or buys a leaf-blower, give them a break. A dose of daily hate is no good to any of us.